Map of the Problematique
by M.P. Whitman
Summary: Freyja, a servant to the royals of Asgard, falls for a man out of reach. What toll will it take on her heart? Loki/OC
1. Prologue

"We cannot do this, sir!" spoke a whisper in the dark corridor.

She struggled to push him away in the darkness of the hall, but her heart wasn't truly in it. He laughed at her, smirking devilishly. How she loved and loathed that smirk all at once (and to be frank, she felt the same way about him). His hands roamed her sides, running up and down her hips. The tips of his fingers felt electric and cool as they lightly grazed her skin. Like ice.

He gave her such goose bumps. She shivered very slightly with pleasure.

"Listen, _darling," _he soothed, breathing heavily into her ear. He nuzzled his head into her hair and inhaled deeply. "I'm going to leave you alone for now." Her smell reminded him of petrichor. She really was invigorating, he thought.

Slowly, he placed a kiss in the crook of her neck. He held his lips gingerly against her flesh for several very deliberate seconds before removing his mouth from the oh-so-sensitive spot. Her legs almost gave out. She held onto his shirt just a little bit tighter. Her breathing became more shallow.

"I will always wait," she replied. She pulled away from him and looked up into his face. Even in the shadows of the hall, his eyes shone emerald green.

He smiled, took her hand, and placed a light kiss upon it.

"Until next we meet, Freyja."

She watched him walk away, elegant and grand, tall and strong. Handsome and yet completely and utterly menacing when he chose to be.

"I cannot wait, Loki," muttered Freyja dreamily.

She turned away and walked down the corridor back to her chambers, smiling brightly.


	2. An Unusual Encounter

**A/N Thanks so much for the reviews guys! I appreciate it. Here's another chapter! :D**

One Month Earlier

If there was one emotion Loki didn't care for, it was envy. Having something dangled in front of him wasn't something he particularly enjoyed nor something he let last long. One of his mottoes was, the first goal of controlling others was to first be able to control yourself. So he almost always got over it after a short period of time.

However, there was always one exception to the rule.

And she was currently on her knees, scrubbing the floor in his room. Normally she tried to find a time when he wasn't in the room to clean it, but he'd come back from breakfast earlier than usual. An argument with one of Thor's foolish friends had caused him to leave the grand table in a fury.

He leaned against the door frame (while looking very sour) and didn't make a noise. Letting his green eyes roam, he began to observe her.

She was paying immense attention to what she was doing, dark brows furrowed in concentration.

She wasn't too thin (he didn't like weak women), and you could see the muscle in her arms as she worked. Loki raised his left brow as he looked at her. His scowl fell. He had never noticed that a commoner could be so strangely attractive to him. She had vivid and richly deep red hair that was tied high in a slightly messy bun. Her skin was a creamy olive, and you could tell she spent a lot of time outdoors.

Titles meant a lot of when were of royal blood. The blood of a god to some.

He didn't soil his hands with peasants.

It wasn't to say he was wicked or rude to them when he came into contact with them. He was just raised a certain way and there were certain expectations that were to be met.

Suddenly, he firmly placed his right boot onto the smooth marble floor. It made a loud clacking noise, causing the girl to jump slightly, but she didn't scream. He found that odd.

Saying nothing, she fell quickly into a very formal, and _very_ low, bow.

"As you were." He said, waving his hand at her lazily. Although she caught his interest for a moment he had other matters to attend to. Bigger matters.

Her shoulders relaxed and she went back to what she was doing.

Striding gracefully, he went to his bed and plopped himself down. He bounced a few times. There was the tiniest of tugs at the corner of his lips, but no other emotion appeared on his face.

He sat there, leaning back on his right arm. Clasping his hands together loosely, the noise made the girl look up for just a moment before lowering her eyes. She never stopped working the entire time.

Freyja was fretting terribly inside her head.

Her mind raced and her heart felt as though it would burst from her chest. Breathing in deeply, deliberately, she tried to calm herself down. She was good at hiding her emotions. But it didn't mean she wasn't screaming on the inside.

After all, the body is just a shell.

She knew very well that she wasn't supposed to clean while in the presence of anyone who lived or stayed in the palace. She also knew that she wasn't supposed to ignore orders given to her by the prince. He was one of her masters.

And he had told her to return as she was. She continued to clean, choosing to obey his orders.

She was also _painfully_ aware that prince Loki was sitting on his bed, not taking his eyes off her.

Tiny beads of sweat began to appear on the back of her neck. She was almost finished cleaning and she doubled her speed to get out of there as fast as she could. She had no idea why he stared.

Or why he didn't ask her to leave, for that matter.

These kinds of encounters didn't happen to either one of them very often. This thought crossed both of their minds at the same time. However the effect was very different.

Loki was intrigued, while Freyja just wanted to go back to work so she could finish and return to the servants quarters.

_I am rather bored_, thought Loki, _maybe a little morning mayhem would suffice? _Loki decided that yes, in fact, it would.

He brought the knuckle of his left index finger to his mouth and bit it lightly. Then he spoke.

"What is your name?" He asked.

A gasp caught in her throat.


End file.
